


Old and Grey

by darke_wulf



Category: Batman: The Animated Series, Iron Man (Movies), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darke_wulf/pseuds/darke_wulf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Incarnadine </strong><br/>\in-KAR-nuh-dyn\<br/>Adjective, verb:<br/>1. Having a fleshy pink color.<br/>2. Red; blood red.</p>
<p>Transitive verb: To make red or crimson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old and Grey

**Author's Note:**

> Second Place in the Wayne/Stark November Challenge!  Thanks to those who voted!
> 
>    
>  _(banner by mahala_ac)_
> 
>  
> 
> _Disclaimer: Unless you don't recognize them, I don't own them. No money or other profits are being made from this attempt at entertainment._
> 
> _This was written for the “Old” challenge on the Wayne-Stark Livejournal site. I’d highly recommend said site for any fans of the pairing._
> 
> Previously posted elsewhere.

There was so much blood. Already the fabric covering Bruce’s chest was darkened with the liquid, the bat symbol almost indistinguishable against the now nearly black uniform. And still it oozed from the gaping wound. The metallic smell sickened him, causing his stomach to rebel.

Several feet away the crumpled, broken form of the Joker lay like a discarded toy. Tony wasn’t sure if he had been the one to kill the man or not. Everything after seeing Bruce falling from the rafters - a dark angel with broken wings - was nothing more than a blur of pain, fury and anguish.

“You can’t die, B,” Tony cried, tightening his hold on the other man as if to anchor his spirit - to prevent him from leaving. “You can’t do this to me. We were supposed to grow old and grey together.”

Tony’s breath caught on a sob as he reached for the black cowl, desperate to see his lover’s face, to look into those fathomless blue eyes that had first drawn him to the man.

They had been so happy. Less than three hours ago they had been enjoying a quiet night at Bruce’s manor.

How had things gone so wrong?

******

It had been date night when the call had come in that the Injustice Gang was causing trouble in Metropolis. Curled up together on Bruce’s couch, they were contentedly digesting another one of Alfred’s masterful dinners while a Mythbusters’ marathon – Bruce’s choice – played on the plasma television hanging on the wall. A seldom known air of contentment permeated the room. Bruce leant slightly into Tony, whose left arm stretched behind him along the top of the couch, his right holding a glass of scotch. Eventually Bruce would make another sortie in his endless battle against the alcohol, but at the moment he just couldn’t be bothered.

Just as Jamie and Adam were getting ready to set sail in their duct tape sailboat Alfred walked in, an apologetic look on his face. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Sirs, but Mister J’onzz just called. He’s indicated that it is vital he speaks to Master Bruce immediately.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Tony cried as Bruce disentangled himself from Tony’s grasping arms. “What the hell have they managed to get themselves into now?”

Alfred looked over indulgently at Bruce’s lover. Seeing how happy the other man had made his ‘son’ he was more than willing to forgive Tony’s minor foibles – not that he planned to tell him that. Best to keep him on his toes. “He didn’t say, Master Anthony, though he did sound quite anxious.”

Tony grumbled as he stood from the couch and stomped after Bruce. “I swear, if the planet isn’t in imminent danger of being blown up, there’s going to be Martian guts painting the monitor womb red before the night is done.”

“Actually, Martian guts are blue,” Bruce commented dryly with a small smirk. “And after your temper tantrum the last time, I doubt J’onn would call unless it was an emergency.”

“You make me sound like a spoiled brat,” he pouted, though inside he was delighted that Bruce was still in such a good mood in spite of the interruption. It boded well for the rest of the night. Now Tony just had to get rid of a certain irritating alien…

“If the shoe fits…” Bruce shrugged as they entered the cave.

Tony always found himself equal parts amused and awed at the instantaneous change that affected Bruce when he walked across that threshold. No longer Bruce Wayne; the Batman was in firm control. His posture straightened, shoulders were thrown back, a confident gait gave way to one of unfailing determination…and then there was all that barely-leashed violence – it was all Tony could do to not pin him up against his car and fuck him senseless. Unfortunately, Batman was stubbornly resistant to all of Tony’s blackm… suggestions on the matter. If only Dick had come through with those photos!

The two men approached the mainframe and Bruce took a seat while Tony stood behind him, leaning on the back of the chair. After a few quick flicks of Bruce’s fingers – and such nice fingers they were… so very talented in so many ways – J’onn J’onzz appear on the main screen.

“Batman, thank you. I apologize for disturbing you on your night off, but I am afraid that an emergency has arisen in Metropolis.”

Tony snorted in disbelief, “What could possibly be so terrible that Superbore couldn’t take care of it?”

“What is it usually? Luthor, Kryptonite, or a combination of the two,” Bruce responded wryly.

“Indeed, you are correct, Batman,” J’onn replied, “Luthor and his Injustice Gang set up an ambush for Superman. They are all armed with Kryptonite. I’m afraid I have not been able to contact him since early into the attack, either through his communicator or mentally. Something on the ground is blocking communications and our teleporters. Wonder Woman, Flash and Green Lantern are all currently en route, but I believe you assistance will also be required.”

Tony rolled his eyes and straightened, folding his arms over his chest then looking off to the side. “Of course it will. Heaven forbid the Justice League scratch their noses without Batman having to tell them how.”

Bruce didn’t even turn around. “Tony, enough,” he stated, his voice flat and all business. “I’m on my way, J’onn. Give me about ten minutes, then transport me as close as you can to Superman’s last known location.”

“Teleport **us** to the Boy Scout’s last known location,” Tony corrected, glaring at J’onn as if daring him to complain.

“Very well,” J’onn agreed, ending the transmission before he could become embroiled in the imminent lovers’ quarrel.

Bruce swiveled in his chair until he faced the other man. “There’s no need for you to come along, Tony. The League will be more than able to handle this.”

“That’s not what it sounds like to me. Your heaviest hitter is already out of action. That leaves you at something of a disadvantage. Besides, the last time you went off on a League mission you wound up with a broken arm and **two** gunshot wounds.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Bruce snarled, standing up from his chair and moving face to face with Tony.

“I never said you did.”

“It was implied.”

Tony sighed, running his right hand through his dark hair, yanking on it slightly before turning pleading eyes on his lover. “Bruce, that’s not it. Look, I just worry, all right? When I’m not out there with you…I don’t trust anyone else to watch your back like I do. Besides, what’s the harm? I’m here, I’m a fellow superhero – even if I don’t belong to the League - and I’ll just be sitting here bored out of my mind until you get back.”

Dammit, a grown man shouldn’t be able to be so proficient with puppy dog eyes. Particularly a grown man as decidedly not innocent as Tony Stark. “Fine,” Bruce grumbled. After living with Dick, one would think he’d have developed a better tolerance for that particularly despised weapon.

“Excellent!” Tony cried, smiling widely. Bruce gave up. There was just no staying mad with the man.

The two started donning their respective costumes, Bruce assisting Tony with his. “You do realize this is ridiculous. I could be done already. Seriously, why won’t you let me install…”

“You are not building an automatic suiting machine in the cave.”

“But why?” Tony whined, sounding disturbingly like a five year old. “There’s plenty of room…”

“Because I said no,” Bruce replied. In truth he had initially not granted permission because he hadn’t actually expected their relationship to last and he didn’t want to have the reminder of another failure gathering dust. He still had trouble believing they had been together for over two years.

Bruce was determined to never admit it out loud, but his current reluctance to allow the device to be built into the cave had more to do with superstition than anything else. He was afraid - as much as it disgusted him - that to allow Tony’s devices to be brought into the manor, to officially insinuate that he anticipated that sort of permanency in their relationship, would be to draw fate’s attentions back onto him. The only result of which he could see being the abrupt and heartrending end to the happiness he had finally found. He wasn’t willing to take that chance.

“I’m just saying…” Tony continued, putting on his gloves while Bruce tightened the last few screws on the breastplate.

“Tony, please. Drop it.” From the sharp glance Tony sent his way, Bruce knew he had failed to keep the desperation completely out of his voice… or else Tony had become disturbingly apt at reading his emotions.

Miraculously, Tony bit back the reply Bruce could see on the tip of his tongue. He shrewdly regarded Bruce for a brief eternity, his intelligent brown eyes seeming to take in Bruce’s entire being with that one look. Bruce quickly turned to the helmet resting on a nearby table to hide from those piercing, too-knowing eyes.

“Alright, Bruce. I’ll drop it. For now…”

As only Tony could, he changed the subject immediately, diffusing the tense atmosphere as if he had opened a window. “Am I the only one who finds it funny that two guys without superpowers are heading off to help the most powerful man on the planet?”

“You’re hardly powerless, Tony,” Bruce pointed out wryly as he handed the helmet to the other man.

A cocky grin was shot his direction, and Bruce suddenly realized with a sinking feeling that he had walked right into another one of Tony’s bad puns.

“True, but somehow I doubt my incredible sexual prowess will be of much help given the situation.”

Bruce just shook his head and sighed in resignation. Sometimes, he found that was all he could do when confronted with the tragedy that was Tony’s sense of humor.

“Oh, come on. That was worth a least a raspy, growled ‘now isn’t the time, Stark’.” Turning to his companion, Tony grabbed Bruce’s upper arm and pulled him closer. When Bruce turned towards the other man, a look of inquiry on his face, he was met with a penetrating, thoughtful gaze. “You’re not sick, are you?”

Bruce’s eyes rolled practically of their own accord. “Of course not.”

Tony considered Bruce skeptically, far too familiar with his habit of denying any and all ailments. Tightening the grip he had on Bruce’s arm, he reached his left hand up and felt Bruce’s forehead.

He gave said hand a confused glance when he didn’t feel anything. “Oops.” With that he pulled back both hands, removed his glove, and replaced his left hand on Bruce’s forehead.

“You don’t feel hot,” Tony admitted, surprised. He regarded his hand skeptically, then placed it on his own forehead for a moment before holding it against Bruce’s again.

“Would you stop that,” Bruce grumbled, slapping Tony’s hand off of his forehead irritably. ”I told you, I’m not sick.”

“Of course you’d say that. That’s what you always say when you’re sick.”

“Tony, I’m not…”

“But I would have thought Alfred would have said you weren’t feeling well when I came in.”

“Tony, I’m fine.”

“You have been working a lot, though. And I know you; you never get enough sleep. Are you tired? You look tired. Maybe we should tell J’onn they’re on their own this time…”

Finally Bruce gave up and shut Tony up in the only way he knew how.

Several minutes later they drew apart, both gasping for air and more than a little aroused from the kiss. While it had started out chaste, it had quickly entered into the realm of hot, heavy, and inappropriate for small children – as most of their activities tended to do.

“I’m not sick, Tony.”

“I would hope not, after kissing me like that. It would be terribly irresponsible of you, risking **my** health like that.”

Before Bruce could form a reply his Justice League communicator went off. “Batman, this is J’onn. Are you ready for teleportation?”

Bruce stared for a long moment at Tony, then shook his head. It just wasn’t worth it. “Yes, J’onn,” he answered while Tony quickly sneaked another kiss on the corner of his mouth as he was pulling up his cowl. The other man gave a smug smirk when Bruce’s retaliatory fist hit the metallic suit before finally putting his helmet in place. “We’re ready. Go ahead and transport.”

******

By the time they arrived at the scene the battle was already well underway. Superman was on the ground in a corner of the old warehouse, being protected by Wonder Woman from Luthor and the Ultra-Humanite. The Flash and Green Lantern were doing their best to fight off the rest of the Injustice Gang, but it was clear that assistance was badly needed.

“See, I told you you’d need my help,” Tony’s slightly metallic voice gloated.

“Just go help Wonder Woman,” Bruce growled, noting that Grundy had gotten past the other League members and was on his way towards the supine Kryptonian. Raising his right hand, Batman shot his grappling gun into the rafters thirty feet above and rose quickly through the air, his cape streaming behind him like a dark river.

“Sir, yes sir.” Tony gave a mock salute to the ceiling and turned towards the Amazon, shooting Grundy away before he could attack the defenseless Man of Steel. Rocketing into the air Iron Man flew straight at the zombie, hitting him in the gut just as he got back to his feet.

Diana spared a quick glance at Tony as he raced past her. “Iron Man?! What are you doing here?”

“What, can’t a guy stop by to save a beautiful woman without getting the third degree?”

Even Luthor paused to give him a disbelieving stare at that.

He sighed in resignation. Was a little respect really so much to ask? “Fine, fine. I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d lend a hand.”

******

As Tony helped Wonder Woman fend off Luthor and the Ultra-Humanite he noticed Batman take out Shade with a pair of bolas he let fly from a shadowed corner of the rafters. More than happy to not have to watch out for the shadow master any longer, Tony turned his full attention back to his own battle just in time to block a blow from Luthor. Bringing his free hand up to bear, he used a pulse of energy to throw Luthor across the room and give himself some breathing room.

It was quickly becoming obviously that even with his help, the Justice League was outnumbered. The chaos of the battle was playing into the hands of the Injustice Gang. The only option Tony could see was to get Superman away from the Kryptonite or to get the Kryptonite away from Superman.

He doubted that the second option would be easily achievable; each of their opponents had a large hunk of the stone strapped to each arm just below their biceps. Then there was Lex to consider. In his suit, the man was like a walking Kryptonite mine. Tony was confident that Bruce would figure something out, however. He always did…

“You really need to pick up some better hobbies, Lex,” Tony drawled as the two billionaires sized each other up.

Luthor looked at Tony as if he were something stuck to the bottom of his shoes – Tony was of the opinion that that was Lex’s default expression. “This coming from the alcoholic playboy pathetically trying to make up for all the deaths his company has caused? I think I’ll keep my own counsel regarding how to spend my time.”

“Suit yourself,” Tony shrugged, refusing to let the other man bait him – though his heart did hurt at the reminder of his sins. Without further delay he lifted off and flew towards Lex, the other man following an instant later. They came together with a metallic crash, exchanging blows with ferocious intensity.

They were both jarred out of their battle a few minutes later when Grundy went flying by, nearly hitting them both. Pausing, the two combatants turned to look in the direction from which the projectile had come and saw Batman and Wonder Woman standing protectively near Superman’s supine form.

Wonder Woman was in the process of deflecting several of Star Sapphire’s blasts with her bracelets, sending them back at the villainess and forcing her into a series of aerial acrobatics to avoid being hit by her own attack.

Batman took the opportunity to send three batarangs as Sapphire, the second and third delayed for a few seconds. She saw the first approach and blasted it to pieces with her energy beam, however it was obvious that Bruce had anticipated this action. The other batarangs, hidden by the explosive destruction of the first, approached undetected until it was too late and struck Sapphire, dazing her and giving Green Lantern the opportunity to grab her with a giant ring-made hand.

Just as Tony was turning back to Luthor he heard Bruce shout, “Flash, now!” Looking back at his lover Tony saw several smoke bombs hit the ground as Bruce continued his instructions. “Get Superman out of here! Lantern, cover him!”

“Got it, Bats!” the speedster replied, at Superman’s side and lifting the larger man before Batman had finished his orders. Green Lantern did his part, creating a barrier to prevent the other villains from reaching Flash before he could escape. Wally took advantage of the dual distractions and immediately made his way for the nearest exit door.

“Not so fast, you irritating fool,” Luthor snarled. From his position he was unencumbered by Green Lantern’s barrier and leapt towards the fleeing hero. Tony tried to intercept him but Luthor was able to dodge his attack and landed in front of the Flash, causing him to pull to a sudden stop. “Superman’s not leaving here except on a coroner’s slab.”

“I don’t think so,” a dangerous growl came from behind Luthor. The evil genius was suddenly flung backwards - landing in a heap on the floor to reveal Batman gracefully resuming a standing position after flipping the villain. Tony was quite thankful for the metal suit in which he was currently attired – there were very few things on the planet he found hotter than a dangerous Batman in his element.

Bruce looked over to Wally. “Get out of here,” he ordered as he turned to face Luthor, who had regained his feet and had an expression of overwhelming hatred on his face.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” the Flash grimaced and took off, carrying Superman in a fireman’s hold over his shoulder - more than happy to leave the crazed foe to Batman.

Luthor made to move past Bruce, still focused on Superman. “Out of my way!”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. Just as Luthor was about to exit the warehouse an explosive batarang blew him backwards and he once again landed supine on the ground. Batman’s form, radiating menace, loomed over his own. “Your fight is with me, Luthor.”

Luthor’s lips curled in contempt. “Batman,” he jeered, “playing the good little lapdog for the alien as always.” With surprising agility the villain rolled backwards, giving himself room to quickly scramble to his feet, and faced off against the Dark Knight.

Bruce didn’t grace Luthor’s comment with a response, though Tony could tell from his body language that he was irritated. He readied himself for an attack, only to jump to the side suddenly, leaving Star Sapphire’s energy blast to crash into the concrete floor, sending shrapnel flying.

Luthor brought his arms up to shield his face as several shards flew by. “Watch it, you idiot!”

Sapphire spared him a sneer before turning back to Batman just in time to send out a blast to intercept the batarang flying at her. As Batman and Sapphire battled Tony noticed that Luthor had decided to take advantage of the distraction and was once again making his way towards the building’s exit. He quickly fired at the other man, but was irritated to see him manage to dodge the attack at the last second. Tony had succeeded in turning his attention away from Superman, however.

“Seriously, Lex, have you considered getting help for this obsession of yours? It can’t be healthy.”

Luthor snarled as his hands formed into tight fists at his sides. “You don’t understand. None of you naïve fools can see how dangerous that alien…”

Suddenly the sound of thunder shook the warehouse. The fighting stopped as the combatants all turned towards the origin of the noise.

“Surprise!” cried the Joker, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere. “Uncle Joker’s here!” Giggling madly, he twirled on one foot while gesticulating wildly with his arms - one of which held a large handgun.

“Batman!” the disbelieving cry was torn from multiple throats at once as they watched the Dark Knight plummet to the ground like a dying bird, the black wings of his cape fluttering helplessly in his wake.

Mad laughter echoed as the Joker stepped up to Bruce’s fallen form, kicking him several times in the side…gaining no reaction. “Ding dong…the big Bat’s dead!”

Despair choked the hearts of the rest of the League and they fought to free themselves from their individual foes, frantic to reach their comrade.

Seeing the indomitable Bat fall, however, revitalized their opponents. With the World’s Finest both out of commission the members of the Injustice Gang were confident that they would carry the day and they each viciously renewed their battles, determined to be the next to bring down a League member. It was all the heroes could do to keep themselves from joining their fellows in incapacitation, and they fought as best they could with their hearts so heavy.

Except for one.

Tony froze as he watched Bruce hit the ground – his heart stopped beating as he watched his world end. “No!” he cried. This could not be happening. He refused to believe it. And yet there was the proof before his eyes, insanely prancing about in a victory dance over Bruce’s fallen body – taunting and laughing and insulting…

Tony’s mind went blank as a red haze enveloped it.

Mindlessly he took off towards his lover, completely ignoring the Ultra-Humanite – his previous opponent - until the primate made the mistake of attacking him. Tony completely ignored the hit he took to the shoulder of his armor and continued implacably on his path. When the Ultra-Humanite attacked again Tony raised both hands, palms pointed towards the villain, and let loose with a full power blast at close range. The Ultra-Humanite was propelled backwards, not stopping until he hit a stacked pile of boxes along the opposite wall of the warehouse. The boxes collapsed around him, but he was unaware of his predicament – the sheer intensity of the initial hit had knocked him out.

Tony continued towards his goal, eyes only on Bruce, mind only registering the lifeless stillness of his body.

The Joker saw him coming and fired his gun at him. That gun… that **damned** gun - the same weapon that had kill… hurt Bruce. Once again Tony ignored the damage dealt him, not even noticing as bullets rang against metal – his specially designed armor more than a match for anything up to and including missile fire. He finally arrived at Bruce’s side. Before the clown could react he reached out and grabbed the now-empty gun, pulling it from his hand – idly noticing as he did how delicate those hands were – the hands of an artist, not a killer…

A metal-clad fist closed and the gun was crushed, falling to the ground in a useless hunk.

“Now, now Tin Grin – let’s not do anything we’d regret…”

Tony could hear the unease in the Joker’s voice. He knew that should concern him – a being such as the Joker fearing him – but he couldn’t bring himself to care. If he allowed himself to do so his emotions would run wild, and he was so comfortable in his current numbness. He could vaguely feel panic and heartrending pain off in the distance, waiting for the slightest hint of an opening through which to attack. But he couldn’t allow himself to be weak. Not yet…not while Bruce needed him…

With the speed of a snake the Joker reached into an inner jacket pocket and pulled out another gun, but Tony slapped it away before he got a single shot off. Iron Man slowly walked forwards, forcing the clown back until his back hit a wall.

“Can’t you take a jo…erk…”

The Joker’s words were cut off as Tony reached out with his left arm and grabbed the clown around the throat, yanking him off the ground and holding him against the wall behind him. The Joker’s hands came up to grab at the arm, tugging at it fruitlessly and Tony’s fingers clenched, tightening his hold on the delicate flesh.

“Kill…ing me…wo…n’t br…ing…back,” the Joker taunted, chuckles forcing their way through his constricted throat. “from…bel…fry in sky…”

Without conscious direction from Tony’s mind his right hand flew out, his fist striking the Joker in the cheek with all the power he could muster. He could hear bones break, could see the flesh split and blood come leaking from the wound but these were distant concerns. He drew his fist back and struck again… and again… and again… until the hands that had been rabidly clawing at his arm fell away and the body he held went limp.

And still his arm continued to strike - its trajectory altering but never its force – intent on destroying the being before it… erasing him completely from the universe.

The face before him was now unrecognizable – a mangled bloody mass topped by stringy green hair. Arms hung at odd angles and the chest was visibly caved in even covered as it was with shirt and jacket.

His arm cocked back again, preparing to deliver yet another blow…

…and then Bruce groaned.

As if wakened from a dream Tony’s mind cleared suddenly, the fog of shock making way for worry and anguish. “Bruce,” he whispered, unable to force anything more from frozen vocal chords, and dropped what was left of the Joker unnoticed to the ground.

Tony yanked his helmet off and threw it to the side unconcernedly, then collapsed next to his lover - his legs refusing to support him any longer. Tony’s heart was lodged firmly in his throat. Though he could now see that Bruce’s chest was rising and falling, it was of little reassurance. The terrible rasping that accompanied each frantic breath made it harshly clear just how serious the situation was. Tony found his own breathing picking up speed as panic set in and he found himself almost wishing the former insensate haze would return to his mind.

“No,” he sobbed, pulling Bruce into his arms as best he could without moving him excessively for fear of spinal injuries. “Please, no.”

The damned clown - intimately familiar with the Batman and his arsenal - had used armor-piercing bullets in his gun, and the shot had sliced through his chest protector as if it was made of tissue paper. There was so much blood. Already the fabric covering Bruce’s chest was darkened with the liquid, the bat symbol almost indistinguishable against the now nearly black uniform. And still it oozed from the gaping wound. The metallic smell sickened him, causing his stomach to rebel.

A nightmare – it had to be a nightmare. Any second now he’d wake up. Bruce would be shaking him while complaining about his tossing and turning but his face would show his genuine concern...

_Please_ … it had to be a dream…

“You can’t die, B,” Tony cried, tightening his hold on the other man as if to anchor his spirit - to prevent him from leaving. “You can’t do this to me. We were supposed to grow old and grey together.”

Tony’s breath caught on a sob as he reached for the black cowl, desperate to see his lover’s face, to look into those fathomless blue eyes that had first drawn him to the man.

“N…no…” the weak, raspy demand stilled his hand.

“Br…Batman!” Tony cried, a jolt of hope resonating through his body in spite of what logic told him. Bruce was awake and alert – he would be fine. It might take him a few weeks to recuperate – and he would surely drive everyone crazy with his whining during his convalescence – but he would be fine.

Bruce coughed – harsh, racking wheezes that left his mouth reddened with blood. “Leave…mask. Not…here…”

Of course. What was Tony thinking? He had been about to unmask Batman in the middle of a battle. That would make it impossible for Bruce to take the cowl back up again after he healed, to say nothing of the hell it would make his civilian life.

“Don’t worry, B. The mask stays on.”

A little of the tension left Bruce’s form at that. “Good. After…tell…A to…initiate…Omega sequence…”

The panic and despair surged back, overwhelming Tony. The long-withheld tears finally broke free and tracked silver trails down his face as his heart was shredded in his chest. “B…no. No! You’re going to be alright. We’ll get you fixed up and before you know it you’ll be out terrorizing criminals and Superman again.”

Bruce’s head shifted. Tony knew that behind the blank white lenses those beloved blue eyes were taking him in, analyzing every nuance so the lightening quick mind could come up with the proper response. He pulled Bruce closer. How was he supposed to survive without Bruce there beside him?

“Tony…” Bruce muttered, one hand slowly - so agonizingly slowly for a man as vital as Batman - rose to grasp Tony’s, “I’m not…”

“No. Stop right there! I’m not going to listen to this. Robin needs you, A needs you - I need you! You can’t die. You just can’t!” Tony cried, tightening his hold on the other man as if to anchor his spirit - to prevent his departure through sheer stubbornness. “I’m not going to let you leave me!”

Tony carelessly replaced his helmet and then picked up Bruce a gently as he could. Holding him firmly against his chest he took to the skies. Without the stabilization of his glove jets he was forced to go slower than he would have preferred, but he continued his unerring path away from the battle. He sent a continuous SOS signal through his communications system on the League’s channel. Once they were far enough away from whatever was blocking transmissions he would have J’onn teleport them to the Watchtower.

His heartbeat was racing as he struggled to monitor Bruce, pay attention to where he as flying and desperately attempted to raise the J’onn. It was difficult - all he wanted to focus on was his lover – hurt and bloody but breathing… still breathing… please let him keep breathing…

Tony’s face was set in a stubbornly determined frown. Bruce would be alright. He had to be – Tony would not accept any other outcome. And as Bruce himself could attest, when Tony Stark wanted something, he got – one way or another.

  



End file.
